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THE GOBLET OF YOUTH 
W. Spader Willis 



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Copyrighted, 1922. 

Published by W. Spader Willis 

State Normal School 

Newark, New Jersey 



©CI.Ar>77529 



Baker Printing Company 
Newabjbj jNfEM'-froEnnr, 1922 



THE GOBLET OF YOUTH 



TO 
MY WIFE, CAROLINE GOULD WILLIS 

<< ALONG the slender wires of speech, 
*^ Some message from the heart is sent; 
But who can tell the whole that*s meant? 
Our dearest thoughts axe out of reach.** 



*7 hang mp verses in the wind. 
Time and tide their faults mil find* 



PREFACE 

THIS little collection of poems was not written 
for publication. Some were written for public 
occasions, some for friends in the home and at social 
gatherings. The pleasure experienced by those who 
heard them caused many to express the wish that 
others might share it. This is why they have been 
put together in book form. A pleasant hour awaits 
everyone who reads them, as they express familiar 
experiences of daily life in a human, pleasing way. 

"The Old Swimming Hole," *'Hilltop 
Home," *The Old Kitchen," and kindred 
poems tell of boyhood days in a way to make 
any who grew up in the country almost wish 
they could be boys again. "One OF Them" gives 
a view of Heroism that should lead to a braver 
meeting of ill and also to a higher appreciation of 
those who served and suffered "over there." "Wee 
Little One," a picture of babyhood; "That 
Boy," representing a mischief-loving youngster, and 
"Bob," approaching young manhood should make 
every parent to see how rich they are in blessings 
and opportunities. "The Old Pew" should re- 
mind one of the most precious influences of life and 
should lead to a renewal of devotion to the memory 
of the dear ones who sat therein in days gone by. 
It is the same with every other poem in the collection. 
Each alike has a message of hope and courage, sun- 
shine and joy, recalling memories which will linger 
in the heart like "the fragrance of roses long-concealed 
between the covers of an old book." 

Newark, N. J. 



CONTENTS 

POEMS— Pagp 

PREFACE 9 

THE GOBLET OF YOUTH 12 

BOB 13 

THE BROOK 14 

SOMETIMES 15 

A MEMORY 16 

THE OLD PEW 17 

WEE LITTLE ONE 18 

THAT BOY 19 

THE OLD KITCHEN - 20 

THE OLD SWIMMING-HOLE 21 

ONE OF THEM 22 

WAITING 23 

MR. PEG 24 

FISHIN* 25 

HILL-TOP HOME 26 

DEAR GIRL OF MINE 27 

SISTER SUE 28 

AUNT MARY 30 

THE TONGUE OF SCANDAL 32 

ROBIN RED BREAST 33 

THE TRUE TEACHER 34 

PA'S BARGAIN 35 

RENUNCIATION 36 

MY CREED 37 

DEAR LAND OF OURS 38 



10 



THE GOBLET OF YOUTH 



THE GOBLET OF YOUTH 

PRESS to my lips, once more, the Goblet of 
golden Youth, 
So I may deeply drink and strive to conceal the truth. 
TTiat I am old, a shadow of what once has been. 
When the blood ran warm with strength and joy 
within. 

Stir my sluggish veins with Youth's rare wine. 
So I may forget the ravages wrought by time. 
Let me feel again the joy of that ecstatic hour. 
When life meant love, hope, success and power. 

Give unto me, once more, the fullness of life, 
The future beckoning from the distant height; 
Let me hear again Youth's victorious strain. 
Ringing, clear and defiant, amid loss or gain ! 

God pity those, brooding through the silent night, 
Sitting by deserted hearths, ashes cold and white. 
Longing for old-time joy, the touch of a vanished lip, 
God, who knows the hearts of all, give them the 
Goblet to sip! 



12 



BOB 

HE is tall and lithe, with a sunny smile. 
Sweetly tender as a laughing child; 
Lx)oking out upon life with eager zest, 
Blessing others and being blessed. 

Sunlit days and moonlit nights. 
Dance before him like happy sprites; 
Stirring the heart and warming the blood. 
With manhood dreams hke a golden flood. 

Ah, Bob, my boy, with future bright! 
Keep to the road which goes to the Right; 
A road well traveled by parents dear. 
With faith m God cmd loving cheer. 

They know how to safely shield and guide. 
Your fine, trim craft on a rising tide; 
They know how to speak to youth's sweet soul. 
Of wealth more precious than silver or gold. 

God*s blessing upon your clean, young life, 
Unmarred by sorrow, sin or strife; 
The future beckons with alluring lights — 
Keep to the road, that goes to the Right. 



13 



THE BROOK 

DO you hear it chattering a song of glee. 
Winding its way to the waiting sea? 
Prattling, quivering, whispering low. 
Fearing the shadows might halt its flow? 

Do you hear the birds siQg their lullaby songs, 
Swaying on willows, graceful and strong? 
Do you feel the south wind among the trees. 
As you hasten along to the sunlit sea? 

O, meadow-brook, with your silvery sheen. 
Glistening amid valleys, broad and green. 
Kissing the feet of the purple height. 
With lips of foam like a fairy sprite! 

Keep your banjo music all your own, 
A gypsy's heart to frolic and roam, 
As you wind your way to the distant sea. 
Singing a song so blithe and free. 



14 



SOMETIMES 

SOMETIMES crafts, moored in harbors safe and 
wide. 
Storm-lashed, go drifting with the tide; 
Sometimes the good and wise, those who strive and 

pray. 
Float out to sea borne by temptation's sway. 

Sometimes, like children, weary of books and school. 
We break from creed and law and golden rule; 
Sometimes, we dream of fancies, sweet and bold. 
Revealing the secrets of our inmost souls. 

Sometimes, voices filled with strange delight. 
Whisper thro' the silence of the night. 
Sometimes, we wake to listen, eager, buoyant, strong. 
Pulses stirred by beauty, love and song. 

Sometimes, we stir dead ashes, so cold and white. 
Thinking of other days emd flashing lights; 
Sometimes, a look, a word, a smile, a clasp of hand 
Makes memories studded with golden strands. 



15 



A MEMORY 

IT was some thirty years or more ago. 
When I was Sally's steady beau, 
Sally, so young, so fair, so sweet to see. 
The dearest girl in the world to me. 

We went buggy-riding, Sally and I, 
When the moonlight flooded earth and sky. 
Seeking shady nooks and flowery dells. 
Where no one could see or ever tell. 

Pray, do not frown at this honest speech. 
You old grey chaps, so very discreet; 
You can all recall with fond delight. 
When you went buggy-riding starry nights. 

What did you do? What others have done. 
Since this old world was first begun; 
You kissed and snuggled, and whispered low. 
Until she said, "It's time to go." 

How fair the world, how sweet the fate. 
When parting at the garden gate? 
The fond caress, the clasp of hands. 
The quickened pulse — you understand! 

Ah, those golden, foolish hours of youth. 
Made up of hope and joy, love and truth. 
When hearts were warm and eyes were bright. 
As we went buggy-riding — moonlight nights. 



16 



THE OLD PEW 

' I 'HOSE long loved and gone to rest, 
•*• Greet me here with loving zest. 
As I worship in this hallowed place, 
A holy shrine between heaven and earth. 

They live again — I see them, face to face. 
Sitting in the old pew with charm and grace. 
Majestic, serene, voices rdsed in praise, 
Just as they did in by-gone days. 

They seem unmarred by care or time's decay. 
Greeting me in their dear old way. 
The fond caress, the happy look and smile. 
Just as they did when I was a child. 

We conmiune together in this sacred place. 
Seeking God*s love and pardoning grace. 
Bidding me come without fear or doubt. 
Following the Pilot who knows the route. 

When the last sunset greets my sight. 
And lengthened shadows proclaim the night. 
May the light guiding them safely home. 
Gleam for me from the Master's Throne. 



17 



WEE LITTLE ONE 

LITTLE bundle of helpless delight, 
I A sweet and innocent ray of light, 
With your eyes so blue and loving smile, 
Never before was there such a child. 

What a hushing silence when you sleep! 
What tender watch your loved ones keep! 
As you grow each day like a fragrant bud. 
Kissed by the sun, and dew, and love. 

You are a conqueror without might or gun. 
As you coo, and smile and suck your thumb. 
Carrying all before you by your innocent guile, 
God's greatest gift, a little child. 

Blessings upon you, dear one so sweet. 
Living in hearts that guide and keep, 
Life looms before you with pages unstained. 
May each page bring you joy and fame. 



18 



THAT BOY 

SUNNY-FACED, lovable, bubbling with frolic 
and fun. 
Caring more for mischief than Sunday school or sums. 
Hard to keep busy or manage, fickle £is the wind. 
But you are bound to love him in spite of all his sin. 

Sometimes, he's very quiet, with a dreamy look in his 

eyes, 
A veritable little angel, sent from the azure skies, 
The next moment he's scampering, up and down the 

house. 
Chasing his screaming sisters with a squealing, little 

mouse. 

His teacher breathes more freely when he stays away. 
Playing baseball in the lot or swimming in the bay. 
He's such a serious "problem," belonging to the 

defective clciss. 
So, she will mark him "Peissing," to get rid of him at 

last. 

Mcuna pets and scolds him, but when he goes too far. 
Severely informs him she will tell his stem Pa-pa, 
Father, coming home from golf, chuckling over his score 
Gives him a brand new quarter to buy Ccuidy at the 
store. 



19 



THE OLD KITCHEN 

* * O AY, when a boy comes home, dog-tired and wet, 
^ The kitchen is the place for him, you bet. 
Where he can warm his shins and dry his feet, 
Feelin* pretty sure of a bite to eat. 

"Mother knows how hungry a boy can be, 
G>min* home from school an hour before tea, 
So, when she smiles as only mother Ccm, 
You know what's comin' — ^hot bread and jam! 

"Gee! There is nothing like it in all the land, 
A hunk of hot bread spread thick with jam. 
Take it from me it goes straight to the spot, 
Lickin* your fingers to get the last drop. 

"Winter nights, the house is all cold. 
Except the old kitchen with its red-hot stove. 
Here we gather, the cat, the dog, and the hired man, 
And me, fillin' my bunker, with bread and jam,** 



20 



THE OLD SWIMMING-HOLE 

IT was great to go in swimming down at Rocky Run, 
Where the brook ran deep enough to get a dandy plunge. 
There, amid the shadows, stripped of our scanty clothes. 
We went diving, one by one, into the old swimming-hole. 

Gee! It felt good to be there, spluttering, paddling about. 
Ducking the timid ones who were afraid to swim out. 
Diving clean down to the bottom or floating flat on our backs. 
Until every tousled-headed kid looked like a drowned rat. 

When tired of playing we made a fire beneath the rocks 
Where we dried ourselves although it was piping hot. 
Talking about wild panthers, pirates, in hidden caves. 
Prowling about o' nights digging up dead men's graves. 

Then, when the little folks were as scared as they could be. 
We told them not to whisper and hide behind the trees. 
For, if the Indians heard us, they would track us through the 

woods. 
Scalping every mother-son of us, exactly where we stood. 

In the Valley of Remembrance, green with visions of boyhood 

fun. 
There lingers a golden picture of the brook at Rocky Run, 
Where we freckled, skinny youngsters, naked, joyous, free — 
Went diving into the swimming-hole beneath the willow tree. 



21 



ONE OF THEM 

LIE had done his bit on the other side, 
* **■ Helping the boys to turn the tide. 
Standing in trenches amid shot and shell. 
Deafened and stunned by a roaring hell. 

A strong, brave chap, with a light in his eyes. 
Like the azure blue of the summer skies; 
Loving laughter and song, work and play. 
Cheering those who passed his way. 

"Yes," he said, standing straight and tall, 
*'I have been in the hospital since last fall. 
Groping blindly about in an aimless way. 
Not knowing whether it Wcis night or day. 

**A chap must keep smiling and smoke his pipe. 
Trying to forget he has lost his sight. 
But a fellow will dream just the same as you. 
When the blood runs red and he*s but twenty-two. 

"Dream in vain of a snug little nest. 
Where his babies nestle on a fond mother's breast. 
For there are things one can't forget in life. 
Mother and home, children and wife. 

**But, bah! I must cut out this kind of stuff. 
You have got me talking, sure enough. 
Thank you for calling — so many forget — 
The dead in their graves and the hospital wrecks.** 



22 



WAITING 

**||H, boy of mine, sailing the sea, 

^^ Why do you not come back to me? 
You have been gone so long, why do you stay? 
It*s your mother who waits, and weeps and prays. 

**Each night I kneel at your vacant bed. 
Asking God if you are alive or dead; 
Each day I scan the sunlit sea. 
But you do not come back to me. 

"Sometimes, I feel a nameless dread, 
A haunting voice as from the dead. 
But you are so strong, so true, so brave. 
You cannot be in a watery grave! 

"Come home! Come home! Dear boy of mine. 
The dearest gift of love divine. 
The orchard is white, the garden abloom. 
My heart is crooning a lullaby tune.'* 

But she watches and waits and weeps in vain, 
For her boy who's sailing the watery main. 
Asking the dear God if he's alive or dead. 
As she kneels each night by the vacant bed. 

God pity the mothers who watch and pray. 
Through the weary nights, the endless days. 
Who bear the cross and suffer alone, 
Waiting for those who will never come home. 



23 



MR. PEG 

HE was jolly and fat, with a wooden leg. 
Which he fondly called, his friend, MR. PEG, 
As he bravely went stumping and smiling along. 
The children stopped him for story or song. 

**Bless you, dear kiddies, sit down under the tree 
While I tell you what happened to Mr. Froggie, 
Who fell asleep one night, on a green water log. 
Snoring so loud he woke up the bog. 

**Out comes Mr. Snapper from his hole in the ground. 
Wondering what caused such a horrible sound. 
And being very hungry cind eager to eat, 
A fat juicy froggie would be a great treat. 

**So he slides in the water and creeps up on the log. 
Opening wide his mouth to chew up Mr. Frog, 
When, jiminy-crickets, such a terrible sight ! 
But I'll tell you what happened to-morrow night." 



24 



FISHIN' 

< i A yi Y wife is a good soul, who washes, sews, and 
IVX cooks. 
But, she's always scoldin* me for fishin* along the 

brook. 
Says the garden needs weedin*, I ought to work for 

pay. 
But, Lordy! It's great to go fishin' a sunny, sum- 
mer's day. 

"Then, the birds are singin', the sky is clear and blue. 
Meadows, in the valley are wet with the early dew. 
You just can't help goin' fishin', along with dog and 

pipe, 
Forgettin' about your troubles until goin' home at 

night. 

* 'Where the brook goes windin* along the edge of the 

woods. 
There, amid the shadows, the fishin' is mighty good, 
Providin', you know the places, and use the right 

sort of bait. 
The speckled beauties are chary of the kind of food 

they take. 

**My wife smiles a trifle when I bring in a mess of trout, 
But, mother-in-law, who pays the rent, she tells me 

to clear out. 
I don't say nothin' as I clean my lines and hooks. 
You learn to be mighty quiet, when fishin' along 

the brook." 



25 



HILL-TOP HOME 

I J EAR little home amid flowers and trees. 

Embodiment of comfort, joy and ease. 
We come to thee for rest and play. 
During the happy, vacation days. 

We love the mountains, blue, serene. 
Encircling valleys, wide emd green. 
The cattle browsing on sunlit hills. 
Meadows, with their murmuring rills. 

God*s scenic movie, ever new and bright. 
With flickering shadows and changing light. 
Painted in colors by a hand divine. 
Unstained by usage, storm or time. 

Dear little nest amid flowers and trees. 
Kissed by the sun, the dew, and breeze. 
To thee, we come as to a mother's breast. 
For loving joys and welcomed rest. 



26 



DEAR GIRL OF MINE 

I IKE a temple-lamp in a holy shrine. 
Exhaling incense to height sublime, 
So your gentle spirit, pure as light. 
Points the way to truth and right. 

God bless you, dear girl of mine — 
With heart of gold and soul divine! 
What your sweet life has meant to me. 
Is a song to be sung in Eternity. 



27 



SISTER SUE 

* * O ISTER can look so pretty and speak so soft 
**-^ and low. 

You would never think she could scold her brother so. 
But she's always findin* fault with me — tramplin' on 

my rights. 
Until I got square with her the other Sunday night. 

*'Pa and Ma had gone to church leavin* us two home 

alone. 
When I heard dear sister call her sweetheart on the 

phone. 
So I stole into the parlor and hid beneath the old 

settee. 
Where they would never dream of lookin* for a boy 

as big as me.'* 

**Well, they soon ccime in and settled right over me. 
And you bet I kept as quiet as a lad can ever be. 
When his sister is sittin' over him, cooing soft and 

sweet. 
While the chappie with her is busy v^th her cheeks. 

"Honest, it's no joke doubled up imder an old settee, 
Fearin' each moment they would hear me move or 

breathe. 
But, when that guy above me hit my corn with his 

donkey foot. 
Out I rolled from under and you should have seen 

them look! 

28 



*Gee, but they did act foolish as they gave me a sickly 

stare, 
Me, standin' up before them with a mighty knowin' air 
They knew I had caught *em, was the chief actor in 

the plot. 
And if I cared to spill the beans could tell an awful 

lot. 

'Take it from me things are different since last Sunday 

night. 
Everything that brother does is just exactly right. 
Sister calls me *dearie,* gives me candy, cake and pie. 
But you bet I know the reason — so I grin and wink 

my eye." 



29 



AUNT MARY 

0"V 



( ( /^\ UR Aunt is very pious, strict as she Ccin be, 
is really wonderful how well she hears 



and sees. 
She says we must grow like the lillies, pure, calm 

and sweet. 
Praying to the Lord above to guide our wandering 

feet. 

**We try to like Aunt Mary but we love dear Uncle 

John, 
Who gives us heaps of fun as we go about the farm. 
He lets us ride the horses, takes us swimming in the 

brook, 
And tells us lots of curious things we never read in 

books. 

"But Aunt Mary scolds us for not keeping clean and 

neat, 
Says our clothes are dirty and we have such muddy 

feet. 
She sends us away from the table to scrub our grimy 

hands. 
Claiming we act as bad as those born in heathen 

lands. 



30 



"Feeling greatly troubled we sought our Aunt's advice. 
She said only prayer could keep us clean and nice, 
So we hung our clothes on the line, one dark and 

ghostly night. 
Praying to the angels to make them *snowy white.* 

**When we asked Aunt Mary to explain the reason 

why. 
Our garments hanging on the line were missed by 

those on high. 
She gave us a dreadful scolding and sent us back 

to bed. 
Where we called her naughty names and wished 

that she were dead. 

**Uncle John, when he found out, what we had done 

and said, 
Came laughing up the stairs and pulled us out of bed, 
Gave us some corking bread and jam and a hunk 

of jelly-cake. 
And as we ate, we told dear Aunt our prayers had 

been a fake." 



31 



THE TONGUE OF SCANDAL 

A SNAKE, hidden in ambush, striking without 
warning sound. 
Spreading its whispered poison from lip to lip around. 
Lurking in secret places, indifferent to truth or right. 
Feeding on strength or weakness, a vulture of the night. 

Virtue is stripped and left naked — honor, linked with 

shame ; 
Love is blackened and tarnished — nobleness, but a 

name. 
All things precious and holy, the joys and sweetness 

of life. 
Are poisoned by the withering venom of scandal's 

malicious blight. 

The thief may be caught when stealing, the assassin 

brought to bay. 
But the blood-red tongue of scandal goes ever on its 

way. 
Breeding suspicion and sorrow, engendering envy and 

strife — 
An invisible, sinister robber rejoicing in it's might 

The world stops to listen to the subtle voice of the fiend. 
Thereby, becoming blackened by the foulness of the 

stream, 
Qirist alone can judge us, knowing the hearts of all — 
Those, pure and stainless — those, who are weak and 

fall 



32 



ROBIN RED BREAST 

HE sits over there on a twig of a tree. 
Blinking cind chirpmg and looking at me. 
Cocking his head in a mysterious way. 
As if he had something important to say. 

Swaying in the wind like a fairy sprite, 
He trilled a few notes in sheer delight. 
Nodding and blinking so I could see. 
What a happy thing a bird could be. 

"Such a lovely world!'* he chirped in glee, 
"Are you as joyous as a bird like me? 
Smell the blossoms and look at the bloom. 
You ought to be crooning a Springtime tune!** 

Bravely, came forth his lilting lay. 

Thanking God he could sing, and fly, and play. 

Then, swelling out his little, red breast 

Flew away to his mate in the apple-tree nest. 



33 



THE TRUE TEACHER 

THE memory of her lingers like a perfume, sweet 
and rare, 
A gentle, gracious woman, with slightly greying hair. 
Giving the best she had to give of the wealth of heart 

and mind. 
With a singleness of purpose springing from the Divine. 

She had a way of smiling as she stood before the class. 
Which brightened all the faces and lightened every 

task. 
Never reproving harshly — too gentle to cause needless 

pain, 
And that was why the children tried to be the same. 

There was something about her teaching words can- 
not express, 

An inward strength and beauty — blessing and being 
blessed — 

Curbing anger and meanness, upholding truth and 
right, 

A silent, potent influence, like the stars of a summer's 
night. 

God bless these greyhaired teachers who are growing 

old. 
In a service of love and duty more precious than silver 

or gold, 
Giving for the sake of giving, unselfish, noble, wise. 
Unfading love for childhood glowing their kindly eyes. 



34 



PA'S BARGAIN 

<^T^A spends all his time, when he's out of bed, 

* Tinkerin' with his car down under the shed. 

Says it is the best bargain he ever got. 
But the engine won't go and the wheels seem sot. 

"Pa always hated these pesky machines, 
Claimin' they were devils that scared the teams. 
But he traded two cows and some timothy hay, 
Bringin' this thing home the other day. 

"Ever since he's been tinkerin' down under the shed, 
Gettin' grease all over his clothes and head, 
Actin' sullen and mean when eatin' his meal. 
And getting' 'het' up if you speak of his 'deal.' 

"When, Danny, his nephew, came down from town. 
He cisked Pa to let him drive it around. 
Pa said 'twas too snappy — had a world of spunk, 
But Dcuiny, smilin', called it a piece of old junk. 

"Did Pa flare up? You just bet he did — 
Sayin' Danny knew nor more than a brainless pig. 
And when Danny, grinnin', said sumthin' more. 
It was terrible the way Pa acted and swore. 

"The corn needs plowin', the grain is ripe. 
The cows ain't milked until late at night. 
But Pa keeps tinkerin' down under the shed. 
Until folks are sayin' 'He's daft in the head.' " 



35 



RENUNCIATION 

It hurts to give up a dear girFs love. 

Gripping the mind, the heart, and blood, 
To say farewell and go on your way. 
With golden memories of yesterday. 

It is hard to forget a piquant face. 
Aglow with youth and winsome grace, 
To blot out the past and bid it depart. 
Without the pain of an aching heart. 

It may be weakness to recall in vain, 
A love forever severed in twain. 
But the memory lingers like a note divine. 
Growing sweeter by the lapse of lime. 

It speaks to the soul in the silent night. 
Painting visions of lost delight. 
It will never depart — this dear, lost love! 
Borne by the angels to God above. 



36 



MY CREED 

TEACH me to welcome happiness, to be patient 
in the hour of pain, 
To live bravely amid losses, as well as when reaping 

gain; 
To be grateful for daily blessings, health, home and 

love, 
God's tender care and forgiveness, unfailing from 
above. 

Give unto me tasks to perform, taxing hand and brain. 
The joy of helping others broken by sorrow or shame. 
To heal old wounds kept bleeding by envy, hatred, 

strife. 
To forget and forgive all things marring the sweetness 
of life. 

Help me to be more unselfish, human, kindly-wise. 
Cheering the hearts of others by word, thought and 

eye. 
Looking for the best in others, giving to others the 

same. 
Doing good for the love of doing in the Master's name. 

Keep me sweet and contented as a child on its mother's 

breast. 
With no dreams of coming ill disturbing its peaceful 

rest. 
Thankful for sunshine and sunset, children, flowers, 

friends. 
Mellowed by faith and service until the journey's end. 

37 



DEAR LAND OF OURS 

r^\EAR land of ours, so fair to see, 
^"^ Secure in the joy of futurity. 
Live on! Growing in strength and might. 
Plumed and poised for loftier height. 

It is thy mission to guide and train. 
In the way of honor, right and fame. 
Teaching loyalty to flag and land. 
With vision wide and firm command. 

Doing good for the love of doing. 
Making sacrifices for others' gain. 
Giving the best that can be given. 
Thy **Torch of Knowledge" a living flame. 

Live on! Guardian of truth and right, 
DispeUing ignorance with learning's might. 
To Thee we pledge our hearts, our all. 
Thrilled by the future's trumpet call. 



38 



